


A Dead Girl & A Leprechaun

by Flayedprincess



Category: American Gods (TV)
Genre: American Gods - Freeform, F/M, Laura Moon - Freeform, Mad Sweeney - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-11
Updated: 2017-08-11
Packaged: 2018-12-13 23:03:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11770278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flayedprincess/pseuds/Flayedprincess
Summary: Laura believed Shadow was her only chance at feeling alive again, since her untimely accident. That may not be entirely true, however...





	A Dead Girl & A Leprechaun

Ostara’s estate was certainly something to behold. Laura had to admit, she had only ever seen something like it on TV or in the movies.

Well, one time, she had visited a wealthy aunt and uncle who had a big house. Not as big, of course, but she remembered feeling very impressed by it as a child. Rather, she felt like she had to be since most of her other family members went Ooh and Ahh over everything.

Laura also felt afraid to leave her chosen spot, a little chair in the grandiose living room. Everything seemed so expensive and important, it was as if something in the back of her mind was telling her none of it was meant for her grubby, little fingers and she would ruin it if she touched anything.

She remembered the house feeling cold. The uninviting kind of cold. The child version of Laura believed this aura was only comparable to that of a haunted house. Only there were chandeliers in place of candelabras stained with hardened wax, and crisp, modern white sofas instead of velvety, cobweb covered chaise lounges. Laura had always been imaginative.

After that particular Christmas Eve spent there, she felt differently about wealth and all the things it entailed. It seemed as if all of the adults were oblivious to the negative energy hanging over the place. Or did they, too, know something wasn’t right, but they just chose not to point it out? She didn’t know. She still didn’t know.

It was so empty, yet so full. And it felt as if her aunt and uncle wore plastered-on smiles that faltered when no one was looking.

Laura knew, after that, she didn’t want a life like that. An empty life. A sad and hollow existence.

She had crept out of the mansion, undetected, to have a moment alone. Probably not entirely undetected, with that many immortal and superhuman beings inside the house. Perhaps like the adults from that childhood memory, they just chose not to acknowledge it.

The gardens had proved the perfect spot to sit and… Think? No. She wasn’t really thinking. She was just enjoying peaceful, quiet nothingness, where she could zone out as long as she pleased. Too much thinking had been going on, her brain needed to idle for a little while.

A few of the Easter Goddess’s bunnies fled into the greenery when they pricked up their ears, picking up on noise coming from the driveway. Someone playing music from a car radio. And singing along – Poorly.

“ _New car, caviar, four-star daydream. Think I’ll buy me a football team…”_

So much for the quiet. She knew it was bound to be short-lived, someone would interrupt. Of course it would be Mad Sweeney. She didn’t even realize the Ice Cream truck came equipped with a radio. And she was even further surprised it still worked after the epic flip they had taken it for.

“Fuck.” Tilting her head back with a groan, she could hear his lumbering footsteps growing closer. Thankfully, the obnoxiously loud Pink Floyd ceased before he began her way. “I see you’re enjoying yourself.”

“I see you’re not.” He slurred.

Sucking her teeth, she offered a terse shake of the head. “Not really.”

The impossibly tall Leprechaun straddled the stone bench beside her, his breath reeking of alcohol. “That’s a surprise. We found your man, isn’t that what you wanted?”

Crossing her arms, she began to take mental note of everything she could about a statue positioned there in the garden. She counted the cracks, she noticed the carved curls of stone hair and how each one was meticulously shaped. Anything to focus on except the man beside her and his drunken commentary.

“I know when I’m bein’ ignored. But I’m not gonna let up. You dragged me along, you made me a part of this little shitshow. We are fuckin’ in it for the long run, sister.”

“There’s no it for us to be in.”

“Clearly, your little journey isn’t over.”

“Yeah,” Laura rolled her eyes. “Pretty sure it is.”

He studied her, in the silence that followed. She sat cross-legged, with her arms crossed too, as usual. Laura had the worst posture of any girl he’d ever met – She never held her chin up or shoulders back. She walked like she was perpetually on her way to an ass-kicking contest. She was already so small and short, when she sat that way it was like she’d fold up on herself like a cheap lawn chair at any moment. Maybe that was what she wanted, to be as unassuming as possible.

But she was all-assuming to Sweeney. And he hated that. As much of a rotten cunt as she could be 99.9 percent of the time, something about her was irresistible. Unique, even.

Admittedly, being dead definitely separated a girl from the rest. But there was something more.

“Why do you say it’s over, then? Weren’t you happy to see him? You said before you felt something when you kissed him.”

“Christ, man!” She cursed, turning back to him. He looked so stupid in his little cap. So she knocked it off. “You look like a walking fucking stereotype. Plaid pants, _really_? A derby hat? Why don’t you just start carrying around a plastic pot full of chocolate coins.”

“Ooh.” He mocked, “I would say someone’s in a rare frame. But you’re always like this, so nothin’ about it is rare. Sure, poke fun at me and avoid your own issues…”

“I wish I could avoid my own issues! That’s why I was sitting out here, minding my own fucking business. To think. Or… Something.” She hopped up, beginning to pace back and forth, talking with her hands in some desperate attempt to portray what was swirling around in her brain. “Then you come up. Why do you care, really? You said it yourself. You were working for Wednesday, you helped set it all up. I was just a pawn in the game of Shadow.”

His mouth opened, but before anything could come out, she began again.

“And you know, sure, fine, I’ll bite. I’ll tell you all my stupid fucking problems you don’t really care about. I’ve been dead for what…? A week or so? That entire time, I’ve been looking for Shadow. I thought Shadow was… It. I thought he was my light shining at the end of the tunnel. And maybe he was. But I don’t think he feels the same anymore.

And, can I blame him? No. I did some fucked up shit when I was alive. I’m not proud of it. I deserve this.”

The look on Mad Sweeney’s face clearly indicated his level of confusion.

“Easter. Ostara, whatever she wants to go by. You think I don’t see the looks he gives her?”

“Most men give her those looks.”

“Shadow never used to do that, at least when I was in the room. His eyes were always glued on me. And me, alone… I know it sounds petty. But, it’s changed. It’s definitely changed and I just didn’t realize it, until now… I really screwed the pooch, you know?”  
The leprechaun shrugged. “You fucked up.” He wasn’t one to offer a bullshit comforting word, and he wasn’t going to brush all of her alleged grievances under the rug just because she felt bad. “Like I said, time to move on. He’s moved on. And don’t you want him to? Like they say, if you love him, let him go. You want him to be doomed to smell rotting flesh the rest of his days, until finally there’s nothing left of ya?”

“No.” She admitted, rubbing her arms in a desperate attempt to feel something other than the omnipresent chill that seemed to loom over her. “I’d rather him remember another Laura. A nice Laura, who didn’t cheat on him. And who wasn’t, you know, a walking corpse. But I know he can’t do that. He’s seen too much. His memory of me is going to be fucked forever now. It wouldn’t be the same between us, even if he did take me back.”

Sweeney had, unfortunately for him, sobered up quite quickly due to the grim conversation at hand. A shame, too, he had a nice buzz after raiding Ostara’s liquor cabinet. “Listen, I’m not a fuckin’ therapist. I don’t know what to say to ya. You cheated on your man, then you died-”

“-With your help. Asshole.”

“Well, yeah, no one’s denyin’ that, sweetheart. Anyway – You fucked up. A lot.” He trailed off.

“That’s it? You just repeated everything I’ve been saying.”

“God damn it, give me a chance to get it out. Having to talk to a dead girl about her shitty life choices was previously not on my resume. What I’m gettin’ at, is this – You’re the walking dead now, Shadow’s going his own way. I assume you can’t go back to your family because they were at your funeral. Best stay dead to them. So what’s your play now, dead wife? Or, dead ex-wife. Does one of you being dead make you estranged?”

She took her seat on the bench again. “Why do you care? I’m sure you’d like for me to say yeah, I’m done here. Then I lay here, and you pull your little coin out of my chest cavity, dig me a shallow grave in this lovely garden, and then go on your merry fucking way. Right?”

There was always such a bite to Laura’s words. She was like a rattlesnake, minus the rattle. She just jumped up and bit you without a warning.

“Were you always this big of a cunt? I guess death would make a bitter son of a bitch out of anyone, though.”

“Don’t change the subject, Ginger Minge. Get it out. If you want your coin back, now’s the time to say so. You said it yourself, what do I have to live for? Or… Well, yeah. You understand. Everyone else in my life has moved on, or is trying to, and I don’t want to hinder them.”

“I know someone else.” He began, “Someone who could help.”

“You said Easter could. But because a God killed me, apparently, she can’t do anything.”

He shook his head. “There’s more than one god of resurrection.”

She leaned back. Truly, she was perplexed. “So you don’t just want your coin back?”

“I want it back. But, I’ll admit, I’d sleep a lot better at night if I knew I could get it back without killin’ you.” He scratched his chin, “Killin’ you more? I don’t know.”

Laura’s head tilted to one side curiously. “I didn’t think anything could affect how you sleep.”

“You didn’t ask to be a part of this. You inevitably got involved because of your man and Wednesday’s interest in him. So, really, you drew the shit end of the stick. No reason why you should keep gettin’ dealt the bad hand, now.” He sighed. “I’m tired of talkin’ about this, just gimme an answer. Do you want life back? As in, air in your lungs and no puking embalming fluid? Can’t give you your man and family back, but, I’m sure you’ll find something else to do. A way to move   
  
For a brief moment, something bizarre presented itself in Laura’s mind. A new life. One without Shadow, one far away from Indiana. Far away from her family. With Mad Sweeney. “ _What the fuck, Laura?”_ She questioned herself as soon as that insane thought invaded. She hated him and he hated her. She was a mouthy cunt, and he had easily ruined every St. Patrick’s Day in the years ahead for her. He cared though. He cared, at least a little. And that was more than she could say for anyone else in her life, or un-life, rather, right then.

“So, you want to help bring me back to life. And then, you’ll take your coin back. Is that right? Sounds too fair for you. Some fuckery is involved here.”

“No fuckery.” He held up his hands, then extended one. “Shake on it.”

And so, with neither really knowing why, Laura Moon and Mad Sweeney agreed to help each other.


End file.
